Home Made Opera
by Jerseycaramel
Summary: Second in my little one-shot series of no name for Tiva, first being Framing Love, though can be read without it. Spoilers of course for Shell Shock pt 2. 'He knows It's not the real thing – can't even compare to the magic being played by a live orchestra and the actors and actresses playing out the parts in front of her – but it's close, and it's the best he had come up with.'


A/N: Hiya! Life has gotten in the way of my writing yet again, hence why this is late and I haven't updated _Lily_ for about two weeks. It's that time of year where people pop silly pills like they're tic tac's. But anyways. This is my little one shot for the ending of _Shell Shock pt II, _and the second in my little trilogy. The first being Framing Love for _Shell Shock pt I_ (had to name drop, lol).

Hope you like it, and I really hope I haven't made any mistakes (though I have a feeling I have) Please drop me a line if I have and I'll do my best to fix it.

Happy Readings!

* * *

_Why was he so nervous? It was just a stupid CD that he burnt._

_But it was something that meant the world to Ziva_, the other side of his mind reasoned.

Tony was used to this back and forth in his head over anything and everything, but this time it was his partner that the slight mental debate over, and not something like '_do not jump her in the stair well'; 'but, why?_', it was something that she had confided in him with, something so very important. Something that was at the very core of her heart that not many people in their lifetime would ever get to see, and Ziva _allowed_ him in to see it. If only the blue haired girl hadn't turned up as his partner had spilled her heart, he hated to break the reverie she was in thinking about her sister. Tony hadn't been able to look at her as she spoke for fear of breaking down as Ziva spoke so sweetly and lovingly about the opera and missing her baby sister.

So yeah, that's why he's freaking out, now, with sweaty palms, pacing, and there's a certain shake in his fingertips that he'd deny until his dying breath.

'Boss,' the agent says with more confidence than he feels. DiNozzo's been hidden away in the little orange corner surrounded by the stairs for about fifteen minutes, waiting for Gibbs to walk past so he could ask the question that has him shaking in his boots.

The older man, frowns at him slightly at the hushed tones, but comes to his Senior Field Agent's side, waiting for him to spit it out.

'Ziva...' he trails off. _Oh, god_! He doesn't know where to start. Her trust is very important to him, and he doesn't want to be yet _another_ man that who's betrayed her and let her down.

Gibbs rolls his eyes in the extending silence before he breaks it with his sharp tones. 'Damnit DiNozzo, don't tell me you broke Rule 12,' he says, hand poised to hit him up the back of the head.

'No, Boss!' Tony startles. _As much as I'd like it to be true_, he thinks to himself. 'Nothing like that. It's just- the opera isn't about a guy. It's ... special to her.' As much as Gibbs hates half truths, he'll just have to settle with this one because it's all he's getting out of Tony for the moment.

Gibbs gives Tony one of his 'go on before we all die of old age' looks and his mind picks back up again. 'Yeah, so I, er... have something planned for her, before dinner tonight, so she'll be a little late.'

Boss eyes him again, squinting, seeing if Tony would crack, but he doesn't, just stares at his boss feeling the confidence in his gut because he's not giving in. After a long pause, the grey-haired man nods. 'OK, Tony. We'll wait,' he smiles quickly before walking off with his usual brisk stride, putting his game face back on.

The nerves subside while Gibbs walks away. It went better than Tony expected, although Gibbs would probably do anything for Ziva, even with the very little amount of information given. _Basically you have a crush on the boss's daughter. Good going, DiNozzo!_

_Shut up!_

Tony sighed at his predicament, but after seven years of ups and downs and all out clusterfucks, he can't even pretend to himself anymore that Ziva David isn't something special to him, that he hasn't fallen for her – _hard_.

He slaps his face a little to wake himself up and out of his thoughts before heading back into the bullpen. They had an investigation to finish before he could do anything tonight, before they all could celebrate Thanksgiving, and he needs his head in the game if he's going to put his surprise into action.

Now he just needs solve the case and somehow convince McSurround-Sound to leave his computer on tonight.

Tony waits until it's the two of them, when she's just about to leave for Gibbs' place when he springs the surprise on her.

McGee had been cautious and scrutinizing when Tony outright asked the nerd to leave his computer on. As soon as the words 'It's for Ziva' were out of his mouth though, Tim was writing down his password on a post-it note and handing it to him, with a threat that if anything was missing or was changed the younger agent would send out his phone number and address to all of his ex-girlfriends. McGeek had the means to do it, but Tony had no intentions on messing with the PC, and thanked the probie.

* * *

'Listen, I told the boss that you're going to be a little late,' Tony smiles at her.

Ziva is confused at first, and he knows firsthand that she is never late with her driving style and she gets that 'what has Tony gone and done now' look – and yes, he can distinguish them from her other frowns. All the nerves, sweats and shit scary talk with Gibbs were all worth it to see the peaceful, content, _grateful_ look on her face. And then he sees her eyes start to glisten as he hands over the remote. It honestly breaks his heart, because he wants to wrap his arms around her, and let her grieve as the music fills the air.

But he can't.

'Thank you,' Ziva whispers in that same voice she had when she was talking about her sister. Desperately holding onto his waning control, he gives her a small smile before leaving her to her memories of happy times and sad ones as the soft swirls of the notes and soprano vocals filling the usually sombre office space.

He watches her for a few minutes, not daring to call the elevator car because he thinks somehow the dull ping will ruin the moment, so he waits. She inhales deeply and then sits in her chair, turning the music up louder as the symphony pulls her in to its depths; and yeah, he knows it's not the real thing – can't even compare to the magic being played by a live orchestra and the actors and actresses playing out the parts in front of her – but it's close, and it's the best he had come up with in the small amount of time.

Tony leans against the orange wall behind the stairs, peaking around the corner for a few more minutes, taking in the sight of his beautiful partner, so very still as she listens. He'd give anything to know what she was thinking right now. Ziva seemed grateful, but in hindsight, he thinks that maybe he overstepped his bounds more than a partner should, and he desperately wants to know if he's done something good or bad. He'll ask her later and maybe she might tell him with their post-elevator relationship.

No, scratch that. He'd give anything to go back in time a few days, and stop being a jealous jerk and actually ask her why she was so upset about not getting tickets. Now he thinks about it, she was too worked up for it to be over just _a guy_. Maybe if he hadn't have been such an idiot, they could have combined their efforts and Tony might be knocking on her door tomorrow night, picking up his tongue off the floor when she comes out, dressed to the nines and they could have had a nice romantic evening.

Well, as romantic as two supposed platonic partners could have.

The first song comes to an end, drifting off in a harmonic diminuendo; gentle and smooth. In the small pause before the next track comes to life, Tony watches her take a content sigh, and her normally straight back sags just a little as she lazily settles herself back in the chair, closing her eyes.

In that moment, Tony knows he's done something right, even though he wishes he could have done more for her, but she's happy in that instant.

It's his cue to leave when the next song starts, but he hesitates at the stairwell, thinking that maybe he should wait for her, and he can drive them both to Gibbs' place. With one wistful look back at the beautiful brunette, he decides against it. Better to let Ziva enjoy the music and have a little time to herself before she has to put up with his sorry face again for the next few hours.

* * *

Regardless of what she had said to Tony about her driving, Ziva was slow – well, slower than her usual breakneck speed – as she drove Gibbs house. She had barely been able to voice a thank you as her partner handed her over the remote.

And she had cried. Tears had fallen down her cheeks much like they usually did when she was at the opera by herself, wishing Tali was there beside her, gripping her hand with excitement, alive. Ziva missed her, but this time didn't have the ache that came with the longing for her sister, because in this theatre that her mind has created, Tali is clutching one hand and Tony is holding her other. It was a simple, sweet gesture from her partner, but it meant much more to her than just going to the opera. Alone. Maybe next year she'll invite him to go with her, and he will be clutching her hand, or she'll be clutching onto his.

After the fifth track and drenched cheeks, she stopped the CD, ejecting it and slipping into her purse so she could listen to the rest of it at home. There's a chance she won't sleep tonight, so the disk will keep her company until the light shines through her windows.

As Ziva rolled up in her Mini, she wiped at her face, catching a rebellious tear as it stole down her cheek, and fixed her make-up as best she could. When she finally decided she no longer looked puffy-eyed, she walked to the house, pulling her coat up in the chilly weather.

Abby had pulled Ziva into one of her famous hugs when the Goth swung open the door to greet her. Her friends were all sitting at the large table that Gibbs had crafted especially for today and it was lovely. The couches had been pushed back as far as they could go to allow the table in the lounge room and they were laughing and enjoying their wine as Abby pulled her coat off her shoulders. All of them smiled widely when they saw her, before she was pushed into the corner seat between Tony and Gibbs. The boss leant over from the head of the table and kissed her cheek quickly before standing up and making a toast to their strange family. She had expected them to start the meal without her, not knowing when she'd arrive that night, but they had waited for her to come _home _before digging into the meal. It made her heart swell even more after what Tony had done for her, almost making it burst with love and happiness.

Tony's thigh had brushed hers as Gibbs started carving up the turkey after the toast, and Ziva gave him a grateful smile, trying to thank him for the music he gave her tonight; for doing something that was so unbelievingly Tony it made her usual stoic exterior crumble to the ground.

His eyes sparkled back at her for an instant, but then turned slightly. Normally, she could read him like an open book, but the inadequacy that had flicked across his features didn't compute with her. Before she could regret it, her hand found his under the table, squeezing it quickly to gain his attention – even though she had it from the moment she touched him – and once again say thank you silently.

Ziva knew he wouldn't say anything now, wouldn't just blurt out what he had done for her at the dinner table with everyone sitting here – Tony was much too modest when it came to things that _really_ count – but the squeeze he returned to her palm told her she was more than welcome. She would tell him later though, just how much that meant to her, even if on some level he already knows.

As the food was passed around to them, she broke the contact to take the plate of meat and helped herself, breaking the little world they were both revelling in; just the two of them, just how she liked it, and with the curl of his mouth, just the way he liked it, too.

It was a wonderful dinner in the cramped space, but it didn't seem to bother anyone. If anything, they thrived in the closeness, twisting and turning to try and get around bodies and gather food on their plates. To Ziva, it solidified the family they were all a part of, matching laughter with spills and bumps, making the night perfect in her eyes.

Ziva pulled her feet up underneath herself as she made herself comfortable on Gibbs' sofa. The meal was long since over, and time was galloping towards midnight. With the table cleared away and leftovers sorted into containers, and Palmer and Breena heading home a little earlier, Ziva could hear Ducky spin an extravagant tale of his youth in the kitchen. Abby had her head resting on Gibbs shoulder as she giggled at the Scotsman's story, while Tim looked like he was about to fall asleep.

She repositioned her arm on the couch, cradling her head, half listening to Ducky's story but the other half of her was back in that small theatre with Tali and Tony. She didn't notice her partner tear himself away from the kitchen, two glasses in hand until the couch dipped beside her.

'Happy Thanksgiving,' he said, with a smile handing over a glass.

They tapped their glasses and took a sip, never once leaving the others gaze.

She was buzzing, full of good food, good wine and great company. A sigh left her lips while her head lolled back on the couch contently, her eyes slipping closed as a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. _Maybe she would sleep tonight_, she thought.

'You ok?' her partner's gentle voice cut through her fogginess.

The hum resonated through her chest as her head angled to look at him, his bright eyes meeting her sleepy ones. He looked tired, too, but his eyes didn't leave hers as she sat back up, shifting closer to the warmth of his body.

'I am fine, Tony,' she smiles back. She's not lying. It's the best she has felt in many years around this time of year, and it felt good to open up to her partner, and stop his _jealousy_ from impeding the case.

'How was the opera?' he smiles into his red.

She grins back as warmth fills her to the brim, remembering how the music captured her heart and made her dizzy with emotion. 'It was wonderful, Tony. I never got to thank you.'

'Prego,' he replies.

'No, it- it really means a lot. Meant everything, actually.'

'It was just a CD, it's not like I was able to take you to the real thing,' he sounds disappointed, and in a way it makes her smile because she thinks that maybe he wanted to take her, and she was more than happy with that thought.

Ziva bites her lip and places her hand over his, trying to quell his thoughts. It explained the look he flashed her a few hours ago now: he didn't think what he did for her was enough.

'You brought the Opera to me, Tony.'

'It's not the same.'

'No, it was not,' she agrees and he nods solemnly, looking away defeated. Her hand reaches out bringing his face back to look at hers and she smiles at him. 'I did not have to put up with people kicking the back of my seat, or talking through my favourite parts or numerous other things selfish people do to annoy the people surrounding them. I was free to think that the actors were singing just for us.' Ziva doesn't elaborate on the 'us', though, but at the office he had said she might imagine Tali was there with her, and he accepts it. She can't tell him he was there, too, not right now, and definitely not in the house of Rule 12.

'Can I take you next year?' he asks quickly.

'Tony?'

'To the opera. I want to take you for Tali's birthday.'

'It's a year away,' She smiled, trying to act like she thought he was silly for suggesting such a thing this early, but her heart was beating furiously in her chest at his gesture.

'That's why I'm getting in early,' he says with a small smile.

'You will miss Thanksgiving.'

'It's a small price,' he shrugged and she felt like he wanted to say something more, but he didn't.

'We're heading off,' Abby said, interrupting their almost awkward conversation. She had her arm wrapped through Ducky's as Gibbs and McGee followed them to the door.

'You can stay in the spare room if you want, Ziva. You look tired,' Gibbs said, pointing to the small staircase.

'No, thank you, Gibbs,' Ziva said, not able to keep back the yawn spilling out of her mouth.

'I'll drive you,' Tony offered while he pulling her up of the couch. 'I can come back and get my car tomorrow.'

'Tony-'

'DiNozzo is taking you home, Ziva,' their boss said with finality, and she had no choice but to concede.

She fell asleep on the way home, despite her best efforts and was gently roused by her partner at the passenger side door.

'I'll carry you up if I have to,' he smiles when his hands a slapped away and she gets out of the car. He locks the car and hands her the keys before she starts walking towards her building. Ziva turns when she doesn't feel his presence behind her to find him watching her walk up her steps.

'What are you doing?'

'I'll call a cab,' he shrugs.

She frowns and as much as she doesn't want to admit this, she doesn't want to be alone tonight. Slowly, Ziva walks back to him, looking up at him with determination. 'Were you even going to say goodnight?'

He steps forward pulling her into a parting hug. His lips find her cheek and it sends tingles through her nerves. 'Goodnight,' he says against her skin.

'Tony,' she whispers when his lips finally leave her skin. 'Can- will- please stay with me tonight.'

She doesn't recognise the small voice that has left her lips, and Ziva hasn't begged for anything since her fifth birthday, but if there was anyone she could be weak and needy around, it was her partner.

He nods and she takes his hand, leading him to her apartment.

The first thing she does after shedding her coat, shoes and bag, is put on his CD again, softly though, not like she did in the bullpen; this was more about _them_ now, than just Ziva and her sister back at the office.

'It's after midnight, Ziva,' Tony said sweetly from behind her. She looked down at her watch to see it was almost one in the morning. It was Tali's birthday.

'Happy birthday, my sweet girl,' she said quietly, tears forming in her eyes. Tony stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her as they started to fall down her cheek. 'I miss her, Tony.'

She felt him nod into her hair, as he stroked her back, running his fingers through the ends of her hair. She doesn't need him to say anything, she just needs him here, doing what he's doing, comforting her, enforcing the reality that she's not alone and she can count on someone – him – to be there for her when she needs it.

They fall asleep together on the couch – as it seems to have become their bed when they are together – in the very early hours of the morning, after many more tears and Tony's ruined good shirt. But she feels lighter when she wakes up with his arms still encircling her. He didn't leave her, and she thinks that after everything that they've been through, this wonderful man won't ever leave her without a fight.

'Hey.'

Ziva hadn't noticed he was awake in her musings, nor that she was tracing an aimless pattern on his shirt.

'Morning. Did you sleep ok?' the blush is fighting to be seen on her skin as she stills her movements.

'Great, your couch is more comfortable than mine. How are you?' he asks a little more seriously. His green eyes are still filled with concern as they were last night.

'Better than expected,' she smiles and the blush has won the battle. 'Thank you for staying with me, Tony.'

His palm comes up and brushes some hair out of her face before settling at her cheek. 'Anything for you,' he tells her. The words resonate in her gut, swirling around and making her feel wanted. 'I'd follow you anywhere, David.'

As much as she wants to kiss him breathless right now, she can't. Not today. Any other day, but not today; and he seems to know that. Their relationship is shifting, more rapidly than it ever has in the last seven years, but she needs him to be here for her as a friend – more than a friend, in fact. She needs him to be her rock, her saviour and her tissue for many more tears that will be formed today, and the look in his eyes tells her he's more than perfectly fine with that arrangement.

'Come on, Ziva,' he says, shifting them both and hauling her towards the kitchen. 'Birthdays must be started with pancakes.'

* * *

A/N: Do I deserve a review again?


End file.
